Hadn’t she learned there was no point in harboring regrets? That all we have is right now? However, knowing that didn’t do much to assuage her guilt.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said, unnerved by his serious expression.

“Are you going to be able to get past the guilt and allow yourself to be happy again?”

Sydney stared at him, dumbfounded by the question and how he’d honed right in on her thoughts. “I, ah. . .”

“It’s a decision you have to make to not let guilt ruin the rest of your life.”

He was right, and she knew it. Still, the guilt had been ever-present since she reconnected with Luke. But that wasn’t all that had been present. “Since we’ve been back together, I’ve been so happy.”

“Then hold on to that rather than the guilt. Happiness is a much more productive emotion than guilt.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Give yourself permission to be happy, Syd,” he said softly. “It’s okay. I promise.”

“Thank you.” She put her arms around him and held on for a long, quiet moment. “You need to get off your foot.”

“Come lie down with me.”

She followed him into the bedroom and helped to get his injured ankle settled on a pillow. Stretching out next to him, she rested her head on his chest and her hand on his firm belly. “I need to go see Buddy and check on Maddie. And I’m sure you want to know how Mr. McCarthy is doing.”

“I’m concerned about all of them, but for right now, this is what I need.” He tightened his arm around her. “You’re what I need.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tipped her head back to receive his kiss. “I hate to see you beating yourself up over stuff that doesn’t matter. Don’t do that anymore.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling at him. “How’s the ankle?”

“Much better since the pain meds kicked in.”

“Will you be okay not working for a couple of weeks?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I can chip in, since I’m all but living here.”

His face lifted into a sweet smile. “I don’t need your money, Syd, but thanks for offering.”

She raised herself up on an elbow so she could better see his face. “What if—hypothetically speaking—I move here at some point?”

“Don’t get my hopes up.”

“I’m serious. I’d want to chip in.”

He ran a hand over her head and tugged on her hair. “I’ve got us covered, babe.”

“I know you make decent money on the boats you restore, but you can’t make all that much at McCarthy’s, can you?”

“You’d be surprised,” he said with a mysterious smile.

“What does that mean?”